The Wrong Night
by Crimson Jester
Summary: Dexter's mistake leads to Will Graham being hot on his heels- but when he meets Dr. Lecter Dexters life gets turned, flipped upside down and he has to go and stay with his auntie in Bel Air (jk). Might write more of this. Might now.


Chapter One: Tonight's the night.

"What do you see Will?"

The room was cloaked in plastic. Hiding what was underneath, or rather shielding it from what was going to be splattered upon it. In the centre was an elivated surface again wrapped carefully in plastic. And upon this surface- shown like some kind of ritual, as if his death was being celebrated lay the body of a man. He was naked, and surprise surprise, wrapped in plastic. Although that wasn't it. Sure, this was a ritual but it was not to elevate this man or to prove his worth- it was merely practicality. This was ritual but whoever did this thought very little of the man on the table. "Could you leave the room." I asked. The room was emptied.

Clocks tick. Time spins backwards. I staple plastic to the walls. It was ritualistic. This was not some random kill- I had done my research. I knew who this man was.

I leave the room and return once I have caught and sedated my prey. I undress him and place him upon the table. I think nothing of this man. Although there's a sense of responsibility in it. I feel responsible to kill this man- not anyone else. This man. I place him on the table and wrap him up like all the rest. He awakes. I do not take any joy in talking to him- it is more that humans final words tend to interest me. Tonight was the night. I was fufilling some sick urge but this urge was not me- it was like someone else. My Dark Passenger.

We talk. Exchange words. Before I shove a ball of cotton wool in his mouth. I stand over him. I give in. I smile- a smile that is for once real, my fingers tighten around the blade and then the sharp shiney metal pulses down. I am wearing black leather gloves. The blood seeps out of him, pressing tightly against the plastic wrap. I am in bliss. Tension leaves my body and I rejoice. I want to cake myself in it.

Then it goes wrong. A gently knocking on the door. "House keeping." Says the hispanic maid. Her voice pulls me out of the darkness and crashing into reality. I begin to try to grab everything I can. My knife- or rather knives, and I grab something that is placed on the wardrobe underneath the plastic-covered flatscreen- but I drop one. A photograph. I open the window and I escape into the blanket of darkness.

I snap back to reality. I glance towards the photo lying on the ground. I kneel to it. It is a picture of a smilling blonde girl. She has freckles and a little flick for a nose. Next to the picture is an evidence stand with the letter "B" on it.

"So what do you think Will?" Jack asked as he entered the room again.

"This killer is methodical. He is clean. This was not random. This was a precise attack."

"Do you think it's gangsters?"

"No, in fact I think it's the opposite. Law enforcement."

"One of us?"

"No. See, the picture here indicates that wherever he's from he's tracked this guy down, the sun in the background is not customry to here."

"It could be in summer." Jack said.

"Then why would there be Christmas decorations in the background?" It was very slight, but around the windows edge behind the girl was tinsel. "I think this woman was killed by that man" I pointed at the corpse. "And this was not revenge or vigilantism but rather something that helps our killer sleep at night. He is a sociopath with no feeling but maybe he has or had someone who instilled this ritual into him from a young age."

"So what you're telling me is we have a cop who was raised to be a killer?"

"Maybe not that bluntly but... Yeah." I said. "And, maybe not a cop. A cop is too close to the public eye, maybe a Blood Splatter Analyst or any other kind of IT guy."

"It's an interesting theory." Jack said. "Do was have an ID on this guy yet?" Jack asked out to the people now populating the room.

"One Tyler Synder- he's on Miami's records for murder... But he was never caught, skipped bail and ended up, well, here." Replied one of the men on a laptop just outside the room.

"Who'd he kill?" Jack asked.

"His girlfriend... Our girl in the picture."

"I think he killed more people." I said.

"What makes you think that?"

"When the picture was dropped, it was grabbed as a collective group... Our killer would've noticed if he dropped the one picture."

"He was taken in for questioning on two other cases. One involved, you guessed it, his ex-wife. Another was the death of a prostitute outside a bar. Both cases were dropped for lack of evidence. And this is where it gets interesting. As a kid his mother was killed by his abusive father- he saw the whole thing. Like father like son I guess." The IT guy explained.


End file.
